Lisa's Flower
by Kitt Chaos
Summary: A challenge fic response to the character 'Alucard' and the word 'sunflower'. In a sunny garden Alucard remembers his mother and an unexpected visitor appears.


Alucard, Dracula (in this story) and Castlevania are from the PS video game Castlevania: Symphony of the Night, which is the property of Konami. No rights are assumed by this work of fiction. Reuban is the brain-child of Bladedfan (she has an account here), and is used with permission. 

This story is a challenge-fic response to thecharacter "Alucard" and the word "sunflower". It is set loosely in the VHD/Castlevania cross-over universe that developed in "Insult of the Right Hand" so the wife Alucard alludes to is Bat from that story. 

**Lisa's Flower**

He normally wasn't so impulsive. Impulsiveness could get him killed, so he always planned his course of action to the last possible degree. Part of that planning was tracking down his motivations for just about any activity he undertook. He had to make certain his motivations were beyond reproach, else he would find himself suddenly vulnerable during that crucial time when he needed to be most strong.

He knew his meticulous planning and endless self-reflection frustrated his light-hearted, butterfly-spirited wife to no end, though he did try to let go of these habits whenever he was around her. Whenever he knew they were safe.

Perhaps that was it. Perhaps relaxing his guard around her unleashed his own desire to be more free-spirited as well. He'd have to watch out for this tendency. If he became too impulsive, his father would use that against him. He could just tell it would be so.

His father. It is normal for a father to have a profound impact in the life of his son, but, Alucard reflected, not for as many centuries as his father, Dracula, had affected his life. Even the name he assumed, the backwards rendering of his father's name, bespoke how deeply his destiny was twined into his father's. He wondered if he'd ever be able to break those ties -- if he would ever be free to find his own destiny.

What if he ignored the call of blood, when Castlevania rose next? More to the point, could he ignore that call? Alucard sighed. He knew he could never do such a thing. He was the one chosen by destiny to vie against his father. True, there were the Belmonts, but their short, human lives could only delay the culmination of his father's ultimate plan.

Only he, who shared the same sort of unnatural lifespan, could have any sort of a chance to divine his father's ultimate purpose, and perhaps thwart it. Humans, for all their sterling qualities -- courage, strength, ingenuity -- could never hope to win more than a battle against his father. Only he could ever hope to win an out-and-out war with Count Dracula.

Movement drew his attention out of his shadowed musings as a sunlit yellow butterfly broke the plane of his unfocused gaze. He stared at the pretty insect as it wandered, dancing lightly in the air on its sunshine-toned wings. Pulling fully out of himself, Alucard noticed the droning hum of honeybees as they fulfilled their natural duty visiting flowers and delivering life-giving pollen in the random fashion Mother Nature seemed to prefer. Alucard shook his head that such random activity achieved the desired effect, year after year, as the flowers came back each Spring like clockwork.

Planned randomness. Was that the pulse of the universe, then? How could he not manage to let everything go in such a random way himself, if that were indeed the universal constant? But, he knew he couldn't. His life was regulated by the eternal pulse of his father's activity. If he were to give into the lure of randomness, his father would win. Alucard was too inured to such dire thoughts to shudder, but he knew he would pit his eternal existence against his father's in order to save the peculiarly endearing randomness of humans. Just as his mother pleaded with him as she faced her death.

The villagers had killed her. She was the wife of Lord Dracula and once her husband's true nature was discovered, no force on earth or in heaven could save her. Alucard, still a child himself, could only watch in horror as her final moments overtook her. She'd begged him to not hold her death against her people, the humans; instead charging him to protect them and help them.

He promised to follow her final wishes, and, comforted by his vow, his mother, Lisa von Tepes, died.

He'd hated his father for that. It wasn't until centuries later, after several risings of Castlevania, that Alucard had the opportunity to speak with his father about it. And to realize that his father hadn't been there, hadn't known, or he would have done everything in his considerable power to save her. It was the first time he realized that his father could love. What is more, his father had loved his mother with all the passion in his immortal being.

Such passion couldn't be satisfied by mere memories for long, and so, his father had found a new love. Such was always the case with Dracula. Alucard had more half-siblings than he cared to dwell upon, though the handful he'd met thus far were ones he admired. It puzzled him that Dracula's children could all have such a universal stamp of justice and care for humans in them, when Dracula occasionally preyed on those self-same humans in the manner he did. Alucard was frustrated when his musings followed that pathway too far. He sensed there was some truth, some awful truth, waiting to be discovered and he shied away from learning it.

Still, his father's restless love for certain human women had given him brothers he admired. Just having such like-minded brothers comforted his lonely heart, even when his ponderings about his father's nature and his own destiny made him feel utterly isolated from the humans he had vowed to save.

Reuban, Dracula's youngest child at just about two-hundred years old (give or take), somehow broke the pattern adhered to by Dracula's other half-human sons. He still lived with his father, rather peaceably, in Dracula's favorite castle. He was laid-back, easygoing and seemingly without any sort of the 'kill-or-be-killed' hangups that plagued Dracula's other sons. Alucard suspected Reuban had finely-honed fighting abilities -- he couldn't imagine that Dracula had not tutored him in the arts of battle -- but Alucard's youngest brother had far gentler skills as well.

Gardening. Yes, gardening was Reuban's passion and most avidly followed pursuit. Alucard had discovered his youngest brother also liked to read, tinker with computers and tease their father. And, miracle of miracles, Dracula took it with an indulgent graciousness that blew Alucard's preconceptions about his father away.

So, Alucard had asked his youngest brother for a favor when Reuban had been planning his garden plots during the cold winter months. It was an impulsive act, one he was certain would come back to haunt him. He wasn't certain why he'd asked for the favor he did. It surprised him that Reuben didn't even ask why. The young one simply smiled sweetly, carefully hiding his fangs as he always did, even among family, and made a space in his garden plot plans for Alucard's request.

And so now, with summer's drowsy warmth on his shoulders and soporific drone spilling into his senses, Alucard looked up at the culmination of his impulsive request.

He couldn't find it in his heart to regret his action, no matter what happened because of it.

The large flowers bore a sort of rustic majesty. There wasn't a single dainty or delicate thing about them as they towered above every other plant in Reuban's garden. They even towered over him. Still, they weren't ugly. They had the sort of grace Alucard always labeled 'capable'. They'd never win any sort of flower beauty contest, but they were pretty, even in their over-sized, showy sort of way, and they were unmistakable. Even if one had to be told, instead of intuiting the name, no one ever forgot a sunflower. Alucard had never forgotten that sunflowers were his mother's favorite flower of all. His heart lightened as he looked up at the giant yellow-petaled blooms. His senses were just sensitive enough to see the tiny movement of the flowers as they tracked the course of the sun.

Entranced, he sat down on a creatively placed hillock of grass and continued to watch the flowers. He admired the way the light breeze, that tossed the rose blooms of Reuban's bushes around like tiny ships in a stormy green sea, could do no more than make the sunflowers' blooms sway in a rather regal sort of way. Watching the gentle action, relaxing upon the soft grass, filling with a sort of languid peace from the heat and monotone notes of the insects, Alucard drifted off to sleep.

A touch playing gently through his hair woke him. Silver starlight splashed through the garden now, pooling in the moonflowers. The gleam of that pure light upon the dark sapphire blue of Reuban's favorite roses was enchanting. Alucard half-expected a fairy procession to make its way through the garden. As it was, a small winged unicorn flitted about, snorting, and chewing on the roses.

"Infernal!" Alucard made as if to get up and stop the aptly named beast. Dining on Reuban's prized rose blooms never failed to make Alucard's youngest brother furious with Infernal. The little creature must have snuck out of the castle to eat the roses undisturbed. The least he could do to thank his brother for planting the sunflowers for him was stop the unicorn from ravaging the roses. A restraining hand upon his chest held Alucard down.

"No need to worry. I told the small one he could only eat the roses past their prime bloom. Reuban shouldn't mind," Alucard recognized his father's voice and sighed.

"Why do you always play with my hair?" he turned and asked in an aggrieved tone. Dracula's eyebrows lifted as he rose from his half-crouch over his son.

"Why shouldn't I? Your hair reminds me very much of your mother's," he added by way of an explanation, offering a hand to assist Alucard up.

"Oh."

"The sunflowers were your idea, weren't they?" Dracula asked, lifting his head to gaze upon their sleeping blooms. Alucard nodded.

"They were Lisa's favorite," Dracula's voice held a soft note of longing. "Her garden always had sunflowers in it. The damn things would bang against the wall of our little house whenever the wind blew just right."

Alucard had associated his father with the grand castle, or the sinister Castlevania, for so long, it stunned him to realize that Dracula had felt a sense of co-ownership with his mother in the modest house Alucard had grown up in.

"You were such a happy child when you were young," Dracula continued softly. "Lisa always called you her 'ray of sunshine' when you were small. It wasn't until the village children began to tease you about your fair coloring that you grew so quiet and solemn. That distressed me, when that happened. You used to have the sweetest smile, Adrian."

"Alucard," Alucard corrected automatically. He didn't like to hear his true name spoken by his father, at least not while Castlevania and the need for conflict that castle always caused between them still existed.

"Alucard," Dracula agreed, acknowledging the rift between them. "Still, your mother changed her nickname for you when that happened. She reminded me that just as flowers sleep during the winter months, those who have been hurt sleep, too. The pain caused by the betrayal of the village you were raised in hurt you badly, Alucard. Your mother told me that one day, she was certain, the sun would rise in your life again. That you would bathe your face in the gentle warmth of that sunlight, and your smile would return. Do you remember what she used to call you?"

At his father's words, Alucard had a memory so strong it was as if his mind were forcibly carried back to the past to re-experience the moment.

"My little sunflower," his mother's hand cupped his cheek as her smile beamed down into his face. Her hand had stroked through his hair in his memory just as his father's had in reality a moment before.

"Mother," Alucard murmured softly.

"Do you remember? What she used to call you?"

"I was her 'little sunflower'. Such a strange nickname for a dhampir child," Alucard reflected.

"Not such a strange nickname for Lisa's son," Dracula countered.

"Hmm." After a moment Alucard asked, "So, what is your favorite flower, father?"

Dracula shot a darkly assessing look his way at that. "Nice try! If I say 'sunflower' to solidify this tender moment we've shared," Dracula's dry tone conveyed the rolling of the eyes he was too dignified to indulge in, "you will be certain to tell Reuban, who will pout that I didn't claim his roses are my favorite. Are you trying to trap me and create problems for me, my boy?"

Alucard grinned. "Of course, father! Isn't it my duty to keep you off-balance and frustrate your ambitions?"

"Only as far as Castlevania goes. When you are here, and that castle still slumbers, you can let your guard down, m'boy." Dracula waved his hand rather airily to punctuate his comment before draping his arm around Alucard's shoulders. "For now you should go in and reassure your little brother that you do indeed like the sunflowers he planted for you. He won't admit it, but he's worried you don't."

"Mmm, okay." Alucard turned and regarded the giant flowers again, regretting only slightly that their splendor was so dim at night. They were sunflowers, after all. They belonged to the world of day.

"Reuban's sunflowers have grown up straight and tall. Most impressive. I'm pleased. Be sure to tell him that. They are nearly as impressive as Lisa's sunflower."

Alucard blinked at that, wondering if his father realized that was a compliment. He looked over, seeking to find the answer in Dracula's eyes, only to find a giant bat winging off into the sky instead. Shaking his head, wondering if he'd ever understand his father, Alucard did as commanded and walked toward the castle. He couldn't shrug off the odd feeling he'd forgotten something important.

Left behind by the Lord of All Vampires, and that lord's son, the mischievous unicorn, Infernal, set his sites (and appetite) on Reuban's most prized rosebushes. After all, those roses were the most tasty.  


-end-

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Reviews, comments and constructive criticisms are always welcome. Please feel free to email me also if you see something awkward that needs to be clarified or fixed. I need all the help I can get!

stargarde (at)yahoo (dot) com


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